


Reign of Light and Shadow

by jjisungix



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blood and Violence, Fluff and Angst, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M, Prophetic Visions, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Swordfighting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25295839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjisungix/pseuds/jjisungix
Summary: Jaemin and Jeno both lead equally messed up lives. With a secret hanging in their midst and their lives at stake, can they finally be the catalyst of change for each other, and the world they live in?
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue: The Past

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I have impulsively decided to start another fic, and this one is def going to be a wiiild ride  
> nomin centric, royalty, super inaccurate considering the time period i imagine this in, so if you're confused just hit up my twitter or cc and i'll try to answer any questions!  
> tw: a lot of blood, fighting scenes, panic attacks, etc. (just read the tags/warnings)  
> could turn out angsty af but who knows ;)  
> edit:8/9/20 I might not be able to update this as much, because of school and other things :(  
> Enjoy! <3  
> 

_3 years ago_

The dark haired boy closed, and opened his eyes, to a battlefield of horror. He zoomed over millions of broken bodies, unable to move, or do anything. He could only watch in mute horror, as monsters that had previously been classified as myth, or extinct, charged across the bloodied grasslands, where battered and bruised men bearing no emblem stood, barely in a ragged line. 

Shadow ghouls, dark trolls, snakes with pure black eyes, purple mist wafting off them, Goblins, except their skin was pure purple-black instead of their usual milky complexion. And thousands of bugs and mice, hundreds of times their normal size crawled after the walking army.

Were these the infamed monsters that his mother had told him in his bedtime stories, until she fell victim to the scheming of one of them herself, his father.

The dark figure heading the monsters lifted up his hood, as in greeting to him, and he saw his brother's face, but he looked different, older here. There were bags under his eyes, but they just accented his aura, making him look even more sharp and foreboding. 

Suddenly, his brother, the battlefield, everything, faded into lines of color, and Doyoung found himself falling into a opening of a cave, on a snowy mountainside. Two figures hugged each other for warmth, shivering and before he could do anything to help, he was whisked to the palace of the Eastern Kingdom, all in it's glory.

He zoomed on a woman, holding her pregnant stomach, running into a dark corridor. Doyoung saw her face as she looked back, and her big, dark eyes seemed to stare right into, and through him.

Then, he saw his brother again, hugging a boy in a dark alley. When he caught sight of the boy's face, it looked awfully familiar, like he'd just seen it somewhere. The boy raised a hand, and light shot out, blinding him, and his surroundings. Everything went black.

A disembodied voice spoke, penetrating the quiet silence. 

_Shadow and Light will meet at long last_

_Joining two ends of a bloody, timeless past_

_The mountains will shake, the seas will roar_

_but who is it going to be_

_that they are giving way for?_

The colors came back, and Doyoung came to, waking up in the wooden room. He pinched himself to assure he was back in the living realm, and turned back to the old lady huddled, inspecting a bowl of swirling water. She tipped in a vial of white powder, and carefully stirred it.

"How was your vision? Anything you care to tell me?" She said, not looking up from her bowl.

"You know I tell you everything, Halmeoni." Doyoung replied, taking a moment to organize his thoughts.

He told everything in his vision to the woman, and she listened, nodding along. He noticed she was still staring intently at the bowl of water, which was swirling violently now, a few drops tumbling off the side.

"W-what is that?" He asked nervously, not wanting to break her focus.

Suddenly, the old lady gasped, and almost dropped the bowl of opaque water. Doyoung lunged to steady her.

"What is it, Halmeoni? Are you okay? What did you see?"

He watched in horror as the old lady's eyes widened, went as opaque as the water, and jerkily turned to him. The voice that spoke next wasn't hers.

"Young prince, many fates rest on you and your kin's shoulders. Do your best, and remember to stay true to yourself. In the world that is to come, you must do as necessary. Remember, family first. Preserve the four bloodlines, even if it isn't your own, because they may be our destruction, but are our only hope." The light faded out of her eyes, and Doyoung was too dazed to catch her in time.

How did they know he was a prince? What did they mean by protect the bloodline? If his secret could be so easily discovered, then he couldn't even protect himself. He almost laughed but then realizing that the woman wasn't finished yet.

"Boy, danger is ahead. Your closest friends can turn out to be your worst enemies. Creatures you previously thought were myth will come out. Guard your secret with your life." This time, the words were in her own voice, but still dazed.

Her eyes finally cleared fully, and she offered him a terse smile, looking outside. Doyoung followed her gaze, watching the sun set in front of them.

"You should get back to the city, before it gets too dark. Even I don't know what roams these mountains at night." He nodded, and began to pick up his bag, and exited the cave.

/

The King had called another meeting. Council meetings usually meant two things: An invasion or threats, or he just needed some people to take out his anger on. It was usually the latter, fortunately(or unfortunate for some people). He slung off his bag in his room, and made his way towards the throne room.

Doyoung had always been the intellectual in the family, while his older brother Taeyong was groomed for the heir of the throne. His younger brother Jeno was fast rising in the ranks of the Elite forces. How ironic that Doyoung adored him the most, when he was training to kill his kind. 

So when Taeyong went to etiquette classes, and Jeno went to practice swordfighting with his friends, Doyoung spent time in the library, reading up on history, religion, whatever he could get his hands on. But he always attended his fathers council meetings, no matter how boring or violent they got. He had seen enough bloodshed, in visions, and real life, to not bat an eye when his dad would call in the executioner, a beefy man, to drag the councilman who was annoying him the most to the dungeons.

He liked reading people, like Halmeoni liked reading her tea leaves. He enjoyed watching the men narrow their eyes through barely concealled lies and anger, smile through sugarcoated threats to each other. It gave him more information to pick through and digest.

But today, the King had specifically requested his presence. Doyoung knew it wouldn't be good, because the king barely acknowledged him, because he was a failure in his eyes. If he wasn't the crown prince, he was supposed to go to Warrior's End. But he had failed the test horribly, only passing with flying marks on the maths and comprehension section.

"I would like you to go on a mission with a Warrior's End Squad." He didn't need to look around to see the surprise on the lords and councilmen's faces. It took wits and strength of steel to even be accepted into the training school that produced the Elite. 

"May I ask why? I'm not very qualified for it, if I say so myself." He nodded his head at his father, who stood at the head of the table.

"This mission is very special, like you, my dear son." Doyoung barely managed to keep the disgust off his face. _Special my ass._

"I would like you to experience some new things, other than holing up in my library all day, reading those stupid books." A few of the men hummed in response, and he wondered, if they could even read, or understand those "stupid" books.

"They will leave the day after tomorrow, at sunrise. I will personally be sending you off, and I expect you to be there. This meeting will be ended here. Anything you lot want to say?" He paused for a millisecond, and nodded his head. 

"Good." He was whisked out of the room, and the men left, one by one, bickering amongst themselves.

Doyoung remained seated in the wooden chair. The was definitely some ulterior motive to this. Had he possibly figured out his magic? No way, son or soldier, he would've been excecuted immediately. Plus, seers didn't have auras.

He decided to slink along the corridors of the castle, covered under a guise of a hood, and listen to the servants. This was another bad habit of his, as he just listened to way too much things he didn't need to hear. Any servant would be horrified a prince was listening into her conversation.

Today, the whispers weren't so different than other days, usually starting with a "did you hear, we got a new worker in the kitchens" or "Ah, I feel bad for so and so, she got laid by one of the guards."

But there was a new whisper among these, among the palace guards who walked the floors and manned the defense.

"The Northern Kingdom has finally fallen, just like the Eastern Kingdom did 10 years ago. The King has set his eyes on conquering the Western Kingdom." 

"Serious? Even with the added men and land of North and East, it's nowhere as close to the manpower and the size of the West. What is our king thinking?"

"But they've got one flaw. The lords there aren't as loyal to their Emperor as they are here."

Doyoung almost retailed in physical shock when he made the connection,. He definitely had to give more credit to his father for being recklessly smart.

He was trying to destroy them from the inside.

When night came, and the soldiers began lighting candles along the dark hallways, Doyoung retreated back to his room, to ponder some more. 

He scribbled the prophecy, and the old lady's words, into his battered, brown notebook he kept in a inside fold of his bed, then lay on it, placing his hands behind his head.

His father was now targeting the Western Kingdom, but why wouldn't he want him to know, sending him off on a mission?

Did the people of the Western Kingdom know about this development? Well, if the guards had caught wind of it, then the West would definitely know, right?

Sometimes, he did wish he hadn't failed the test, and gotten into Warrior's End. The books on battle techniques in his library were far and few, so he wasn't very well versed in the topic. 

It was too late to wish now. Once his father had set his sights on something, he would get it, even if it killed himself. This time, the Western Kingdom was going down.

That night, Doyoung dreamed of battles, destruction, and a family that seemed hauntingly familiar, like he'd seen them somewhere. Unfortunately, the faces were just slightly blurred, so he couldn't tell exactly who. After all, he liked observing people's ways, not how they looked. 

/

The day had came. Bright and early, he crawled out of bed, and tugged on a hood, taking his sword, which lay in a corner. The sun had barely risen when he and his father, walking side by side, arrived at the courtyard. No one spoke.

By ten ghouls, he had to be fucking with himself.

At the head, stood Jung Jaehyun, his longtime enemy, with a shit eating grin. His First, Yuta stood beside him, similar smile on his face.

Doyoung tried to mask his resentment and hate towards his father, and the man heading their group, as his father introduced him to the squad, met with a torrent of barely concealed whispers of confusion.

For what reason was the studious second prince that the king barely talked about, going on a mission with them? 

"Gentlemen! We have secured a location of a possible magic user in one of the border towns of what was the Eastern Kingdom, so you lot will go and eliminate her. Kill everyone in the house, and do not leave anyone alive. I repeat, anyone." The king stood, assessing the men. 

Then he turned to Doyoung. "A word with my son, please."

He gulped and walked to the side, after his father.

"If you can kill her, you will have my favor. You're a very smart boy, Doyoung, so I expect you to do this properly." A pat on the back, sending him to his horse.

His father hadn't touched him, let alone said his nickname, for too many years to count. He felt a strange sense of pride, to do well. 

Was this his father's effect on people? To make them bow to his feet with one touch after being deprived for years?

"Your daddy giving you a second chance at the high life?" It was Jaehyun, of course.

"It seems like your version of high life is different from mine, if I wanted to, I could go on more of these, you know?" Doyoung was too tired to think of a better comeback. It was probably fake, and both of them knew.

"You still can't get up on the morning, eh? Just like old times." Yuta rode up beside them.

"Shut it, Nakamoto." He hissed, letting himself fall back from the two. Unfortunately, they kept pace with him, constantly throwing masked insults and veiled threats. Of course, directly threatening a prince would be treason, and Doyoung was glad he held this above them.

"Jae, Yuta, cut it. We wouldn't want the princeling to report to his father and for our squadron to be demoted." Even if Taeil put it in a rather ugly manner, he felt thankful, as he met the older's eyes, on his mount, riding behind them.

The two relented, but not before riding ahead and kicking dust into his face. Doyoung coughed, covering his face. The mask wouldn't help.

Once upon a time, those two had been his best friends, playing together in the garden, messing around in the library while a young and curious Doyoung skimmed the book titles of the restricted sect-- that was it! He needed to snoop inside the restricted section to find out more about the tactics, so he could predict his father's next move.

The rest of the ride was in silence. A group of Elite, passing along the country roads, would the news travel faster then they would, of their destination, and intent? The King's famed silent soldiers, visiting their village to eat, and sleep, both in dead silence. 

By the time the first villager woke the next morning, they were gone, no trace left behind.

/

When they arrived at the small border town, a group of men, dressed in black, bearing the Kingdom's emblem, it was common sense, and expected, that every single villager scrambled to hide in their houses. After all, one of them had just ratted out their neighbors to the king for magic usage. If this system wasn't as sadistic and negative as it was, he might've complemented it.

The entourage, with Doyoung at the front now--per his father's orders yet again, arrived at the house.

He exchanged a silent nod with Jaehyun, and he motioned his men to sort through the neighboring houses, and only he entered the house. A voice that sounded hauntingly familiar, sounded in the next room.

"Jaem, Jisung, you have to run. They have finally found me. Remember, look for yourselves only, and trust only the shadow who is who he isn't. Now, go my sweet children, I'll always looks out for you." Some shuffles sounded, and then the door opened, and a woman stepped out.

"Long time no see, Doyoung." The woman looked more haggard, like she had survived two wars, which she, in fact, had.

"Hyebin?" 

"I'm assuming you're here to kill me, go ahead. I've lived long enough, and it's calming, in a way, to meet my end, with an old friend like you." She offered him a smile.

"I-How'd they find you?" He whispered, pulling her onto a seating position in the couch.

"A neighbor had a hunch, and when the patrols passed, they reported me for using magic." She lowered her voice.

"But how'd you know I would come?" There was a weight in his chest, and he gulped it down, waiting for her response.

Hyebin sighed. "Well, since I'm going to die either way, I'll tell you now. I have seer magic. I've always had it."

Doyoung gasped. She was the second seer he had met, other than the old lady on the mountain. 

"Yes, I know." She nodded at him.

"Y-you know? That I'm--" She cut him off with a nod. 

"Doyoungie, you have to trust me on this." She shook his shoulders tightly. "Please protect my sons. They are the last blood of the Eastern Kingdom. The shadow is closer than you think it is, and light and shadow are the key to--" The sound of the front door bursting open made him draw his knife, aiming it at her heart.

"I'm so sorry." He lowered his head to her chest, a last testament, and a form of Eastern culture. Doyoung felt her nod, and tears slipping from her eyes. He had to hold in his own, even though they were threatening to slip out too.

He closed his eyes, and plunged the knife into her heart.

No one realized, maybe not even himself, but a bit of him died that day along with his childhood friend.

"Mission accomplished." Was all he said to Jaehyun, and then stalked out of the small room, and house, and onto his horse, before he realized his knife was still stuck in Hyebin's body.

They were almost halfway back to the capitol, and the palace, when Doyoung also realized Hyebin had been the pregnant lady in his vision, and the boy was her son.

Something was terribly wrong.

_______________________________

"Run, Sungie, we have to run. Use the back alleys!" Jaemin hissed to his brother. 

"Where to?" Jisung's eyes were huge, as he stared back at his brother, shutting the back door. 

"Out, away from this village. Towards the capital." He made up his mind. It wouldn't be hard to blend in, right? He could get a job, enroll Jisung in a school, and life could continue on, except without their mother. 

The two boys snuck under the awnings of houses, gutter systems and trash piles, until they reached the outskirts of the village. He pulled the younger boy behind a wall when the horsemen thundered by.

The horsemen that killed his mother. The Elite, the most respected soldiers. Jaemin would destroy them, one by one. 

They camped in an abandoned barn the first three nights, Jaemin stealing from the nearby farmhouse in the day.

When the sun had set, and the two boys lay on the straw, Jisung spoke up.

"Do you know why Mother was killed?" His voice was small.

Jaemin bit down a wave of nausea, and the lump in his throat. "It's because of me." He hesitated. "I have magic."

His brother gasped. "Y-you have it? But why didn't they kill you?"

He decided not to answer his questions. One of his mother's core values had been to _value truth, above the sweet lies._ Yet he was still here, telling a half lie. 

His mother had a seer power, and was the one who taught him to control his magic, to use it for good, not destruction.

Instead, he patted the warm backside of Jisung, and whispered, "Jisungie, don't think about Mom, okay? Go to sleep, and be at peace."

Even when he could hear the younger's breath even out into blissful sleep, Jaemin lay awake, thinking. It always had been hard for him to fall asleep. 

All because of his god damned magic. His mother had always said he held the light in his hands. But now, all his magic could do was end lives. The neighbor who had tried to lie to the sheriff 8 years ago, when he had discovered it by accident, never came back from his trip to the next town over.

Jaemin let a ball of light glow in his hands, and then put it out with a small flash when Jisung shifted to his direction. 

Why oh why, did they kill his mother, who was innocent, instead of coming after her son, who was born with magic? 

Why no one came after them, they had no idea. It was common knowledge that Ji Hyebin had two sons. 

Some strings had definitely been pulled, but how long would it last until they snapped?

/

"Okay, class. Today I'll be reading you _The Tale of the Shadow and Light Warrior_." Jaemin paused for a moment, scanning the faces of the class. 

Did anyone know the very teacher who was reading this legend them was living to uphold the tale? 

He flipped the page of the worn book.

"Once upon a time, there were two gods, the Shadow God, and the Light God. They were best friends. Wherever one was, you were bound to find the other." He showed the class of big eyed children a hand-painted picture of two figures, wearing black and white. The shadow warrior's features weren't very distinguished under his hood, but he noticed he had rather strong features.

_Flip the page already, Jaemin. You can't be gawking for too long._

"At first, only shadows and light existed on Earth, so the Shadow and Light Gods got tired of it. They formed the elementals, Fire, Air, Water, and Earth." Another picture of the two 'making' the new gods. 

_Please act natural. Young kids ask a lot of questions._ He reminded himself.

"With the six gods, life on the Earth quickly got bland, as the gods were always bickering. So Shadow and Light commissioned the four elemental gods to create a landscape, and animals. The people came last." 

He showed the picture of the elementals creating the people. The pictures were getting noticeably messier, like the artist didn't have much time to paint and perfect them.

"At first, the gods had no idea how to create regular people, so they created the seers, but when they realized that the people could predict what they would be doing, they tried to kill them off." This scene was intricately drawn, a battle scene between the gods and a group of people. A different artist, he noticed.

_Had the first one been killed or something?_

Did the seers back then predict the god's every move? If they were the first generation, then would they be able to project their thoughts too?

"Finally, the gods corrected their mistake, and made the humans that we are today." He motioned around the room where the kids sat.

"But the humans grew strong, and with the help of the seers that remained, waged war on the gods. The gods fought back, of course, but there were way too many humans."

Another battle scene, except between regular humans and the gods. Jaemin took a peek at the Light god, next to the Shadow god, casting his power. 

_Oh, how different things were today._

"The elementals died, but not before casting one more curse." He almost scoffed at the sentence. Without the help of the elemental magic welders, none of the Kingdoms would have been formed in the first place.

"Some humans would get the burden of their power, and thus created the bloodlines of the Kings of the North, West, East, and South Kingdoms."

"Wait." Jaemin froze, slowly meeting the gaze of the child who had spoken.

"Yes?" He asked, tentatively. 

"If the bloodlines of the Kings have magic, doesn't our King have magic?" 

"Ah," Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, relieved. "This is only a legend, and even if our King's bloodline had magic, it would've run dry a millennia ago."

"Anyways, let's continue, shall we?" He looked around the room, and the children nodded at him, eyes innocently wide. He forced a smile back.

"The Shadow and Light Gods went into hiding, as they were horribly outnumbered, in skill and numbers. They were conflicted, into if they should help the humans or not. Light wanted to, but Shadow didn't."

"So they went to war. The sky split, forests burned, the seas roared, pouring onto port villages." Yet another battle scene. 

Whoever had wrote this, must've been feeling angsty that day, he concluded, showing the illustration to the group of kids. 

"In the end, who won? Nobody. The Shadow and Light god both cursed each other, using the same curse at the same time, birthing the Shadow and Light Warriors, born once in a thousand years."

"When will the next ones be born? No one knows. All we know is that since they are cursed children of the gods, they will bring change, and a warning." Jaemin shut the book, turning his head towards the group of children.

"The book is finished. How was it, kids?" He managed an amicable grin as the kids milled among themselves. A girl raised her hand, and Jaemin shakily said her name.

"The Light Warrior looks like you, Sir Jaemin." 

_9 fucking shadow ghouls, had he been discovered? Act natural, act natural, please._

"Oh, really?" He asked, but his voice cracked.

_Please not now, Jaemin. Why can't you do anything right?_

Jaemin opened his flask, sipping from it, to distract himself from the question, and prepare a answer.

Setting the flask down, he turned towards the girl, smiling. 

"Really? I'm flattered. I find the illustrations cool myself too. Do any of you know who drew the pictures in this book?"

 _Good save, Nana._ He internally thought, patting himself on the back.

A quiet boy, sitting in the back, spoke up.

"My great grandfather did, but got taken away for his magic, and died." His dark eyes bore into Jaemin, and he felt uncomfortable, in a sense.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a few Elite soldiers burst in. He burst up from his chair, heart pounding. He bowed deeply as he faced the men dressed in black.

"H-how can I help you, Sir?" He choked out. Was this the end for him? But he hadn't used magic ever since that fateful night.

Aura? He didn't have one, so no one could've reported to have seen it. So why were the soldiers knocking on the door of the school? Fuck, Jisung--was he okay? The King's soldiers had a nasty habit of targeting loved ones, as he had first handedly experienced.

"By the King's decree, we are here to take a male by the name of Park Ji-Hyun in for questioning." The expressionless male standing at the front declared, holding up a paper. Did he know he was sentencing an entirely innocent person to death like he'd been asking for a bottle of soju at a tavern?

No one moved, until Jaemin spoke up. 

"Ji-Hyun, where are you?" He asked in a soft tone. "The soldiers need you." He smiled at the kids, and then the soldiers, and swore one of them scoffed.

The students were all rendered silent, in fear of the intimidating men standing before them. Magic or not, he couldn't blame them. He would be frightened too.

All the kids stayed silent, no one speaking, until the girl, who had asked him the question about the bloodlines, pointed a shaky finger towards the dark eyed boy sitting at the back of the room.

"He's Ji-Hyun." She whispered, voice shaky.

Jaemin suppressed a gasp. This girl was ratting out her own classmate, her own friend, and sentencing him to death. Did she have any morals? Even kids at this young age knew nothing good happened with their neighbors who had been taken away. 

"Thank you, young miss." The cloaked warrior turned to Jaemin. "Next time, teacher, you should tell us if a child we request is in your presence, or you'll be next." They grabbed the kid roughly, and hauled him out the door.

The child had never broke eye contact with him, eyes screaming for help.

The classroom was dead silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how was it???? wow pure angst right from the start? I promise it won't always be like that  
> this has a happy ending I think  
> this was clearly unbetaed, and I probably have tons of grammar mistakes.  
> anyways, pls comment and leave kudos if you liked it! this doesn't have a regular updating schedule because of life, so yeah  
> interaction!!! don't be afraid to comment or dm me on twitter, i'm happy to chat and make new friends!!!  
> 


	2. The Power

_around 2 years prior to the present_

"Jeno." His father stood at the end of the long hallways leading to his room.

"You have a new servant." He had his arm around a terrified looking boy around his age. 

"Meet Mark. He's only one year older than you. I thought you would like some servants your age." The King smiled rather devilishly, and even at his fairly young age, Jeno knew it wasn't something good.

So he smiled sweetly at the boy, hoping it would calm his nerves a bit.

"Hello, I'm Jeno, Lee Jeno. It's nice to meet you." He watched as his father nudged the boy rather conspiciously, and he stiffly bowed in front of him.

"Well, I'll leave you two to your own. See you soon, Mark." The man put extra emphaisis on his name for some odd reason, and left, swishing his robes.

Jeno opened the door, motioning Mark through, but the boy didn't budge.

"Y-your highness, I'm supposed to do that for you though. L-let me." He started to move towards the door, but got stopped.

"It's okay. You don't have to do that, Mark." Jeno slipped inside the room, and shut the door after Mark walked in, standing in that stiff way of his.

"You don't have to be scared of me." Jeno plopped onto his bed, knocking over a few books on the table beside it. "See, I'm totally harmless. Wanna be friends?" He looked up at the boy, who was looking at him with big eyes, like dark water orbs.

He nodded. "I'd like that, your highness." 

"Well, if we're friends, you don't have to call me your highness anymore. Honestly, I'm technically not your highness, my brother Taeyong is. Just call me Jeno, or Jen." Jeno smiled up at him.

He rolled over, and pulled a chair, motioning the older boy to sit. 

"Tell me more about yourself." He continued after the boy sat down on the very edge of the chair. 

"I'm Mark, Lee Mark, and I like eating watermelon, and playing guitar." He wrung his hands, and peeked at Jeno.

Jeno stared at the boy in curiosity. "What's a guitar?" 

Mark opened his eyes even wider, like he was in shock or something. "A-ah, a guitar is an instrument from the West." He gave a small smile.

Jeno patted the space on the bed next to him. "Sit, and tell me more. It's an order." He added with a playful smile. 

The older boy finally relented, and lay down next to him. 

/

From that point on, Mark and Jeno became best friends. Mark lived up to his servant expectations well, and in the privacy of their rooms, when Jeno was done with his academy training, they would play all sorts of games.

Now, leaving two boys unattended in a room with candles at the dead of night is super dangerous, but the King was always busy with Taeyong, and only saw that his youngest son finished his schoolwork or good the top grades at Warriors End, which he did.

Jeno and Mark were tossing a book around in boredom, when it hit a candle, and it caught fire, spreading rapidly along the seams and pages of the book and catching onto the pile next to the blaze, and the next.

He was about to call a servant, when out of the corner of his eye, a wave of blue water hit it. Jeno distinctly remembered not bringing that much water into his rooms, so where had the water came from?

He turned to see Mark pelt the fire with a jet of water, and he let out a gasp. 

"Mark!" The water stopped abruptly, and the boy turned to look at him, eyes as wide as the day they met.

"J-jeno please don't report me, I can explain--" Jeno engulfed him in a hug.

"It's okay, Markie." He whispered. "I won't say anything, but you really have to help me too."

He separated himself from the older, and held out his hand, forming a wisp of a shadow. He could hear Mark's gasp and turned to the older.

"I-How did you go so long without being found out?" He whispered, pointing at his fading purple mist like form. 

"I don't know. I figured this out a few months ago. Oh, what do I do, Mark? I'll get chewed out for magic use, and the King could execute me, and even if I graduate from Warrior's End, I'll be hunting my own kind!" Jeno flopped onto his bed, chest feeling strangely empty, from spilling his pent up thoughts.

"Y-you're the shadow warrior! Oh my fucking god." Mark didn't even realize the swear that slipped out of his mouth. 

"No shit." He laughed dryly. "What do I do? I can apparently hide it, but I'll still be killing other magic people!"

"So, how should I take this? Get over it, or just take it all in stride?" 

"To get over something, you have to not think about it. Our minds will trick us into thinking about them, but distract." He sounded like he was speaking from experience, voice tapering off at the end. Jeno decided to not push farther, the answer was already weird in itself. He was sure Mark had many secrets he didn't share, and he wasn't the person to push.

"You deal with it." Mark added, with a dry laugh. "I'll tell you a story." Jeno looked up, eyes wide.

"Once upon a time, in a land not too far away, there lived a boy. He was his Kingdom's beloved young ice prince, blessed with water and ice magic, a one in a millennia occurrence. But his father trusted too easily, and fell victim to another power and land hungry ruler." He paused to laugh, and run his hand through his hair. "I wouldn't call him ambitious, maybe borderline reckless? Anyways, that King did what he does best, be a little sneaky bitch, and infiltrated the kingdom from inside. The prince's father trusted the King like they were childhood friends, and let him appoint members of his council, when the reappointing time came. Unfortunately, they caused internal disruption amongst the citizens and the royal council, caused some more chaos, and to put it short, the kingdom fell."

"Now, what happened to the prince and his family? His parents were both killed, by the man his father had literally sold his kingdom, his birthright to. The prince narrowly escaped by freezing over the entire palace, and making it hard to chase him. But he was caught, and perpetually sold into slavery. The King found out, and made it even more hard on him, serving the kingdom his father had sold to." Mark finished, taking a deep breath, and facing Jeno.

"The prince, was he jealous and sad, serving the kingdom that had ruined his?" He asked, gingerly.

He watched as Mark nodded, tilting his head. "But some things just turn out they way they are, don't they? Like how you're the shadow warrior and I'm just a captured prince--I shouldn't even call myself that anymore." He smiled grimly.

"Do you know how to use your magic?" He sat by Jeno on the big bed.

"Not really. I secretly looked into some magic books, but they weren't much help. All they said were that magic users were a hazard to society, and needed to be executed. Will we be executed, Mark?" He shifted his body nervously.

"If I teach you, it'll be okay." Was all that Mark said, patting his back.

"Then, Prince Mark, will you teach a fellow friend your ways? It's not an order, just a favor from your best friend." Jeno smiled, and Mark nodded, excited.

/

"Control your core. Focus on it, pretend it's in a cup. If it starts sloshing too violently, then you have too much force, and you'll go too far. Just envision the bathtub in my room." The low, calm voice of his friend sounded through the darkness.

"But I don't even know what your bathtub looks like." He answered softly, not breaking focus from containing the jerkily rocking black ball.

"I'm sure you do. If you don't remember, try my bed. It's a challenge to keep more of your magic in, as it's closer. You can use the shadow my clothes hanger casts to land in." Mark chuckled, and Jeno bit back a groan. His magic trembled a bit, and almost came to a standstill, like when he was about to fall asleep.

"Okay, go, Prince Jeno." 

"Aye aye, Prince Mark. Let's go."

He closed his eyes tighter, delving deep into his power, and envisioning Mark's bed, with it's slightly rumpled up sheets and yellowed pillows.

_Zap!_

Jeno opened his eyes, and he was tangled in Mark's bedsheets, he cheered with a whoop, and said person came rushing in, bursting out in laughter when he saw where he had landed.

"Wait, this looks erotic in a sense, doesn't it?" Mark said, flopping on his bed. Jeno smacked his friend, coming out of the sheets.

"Mark, why do you have such a dirty mind?"

/

_present_

Jeno had been discovering different ways he could use his power, after all, he had no traceable aura. By far, his favorite was the shadow pocket, a dimension in his mind, where if he concentrated enough, he could teleport there.

This was a dangerous portion of his abilities though. If he got lost, he would be stuck there forever. So just in case, Jeno stocked food, water, books, and some swords so he wouldn't get bored. Somehow and thankfully, food didn't rot there.

Also, he couldn't tap into the outside world, so if a maid was cleaning his room and he suddenly appeared, it would be frightening, and would also signal the end of his life. How ironic his favorite was the most risky and dangerous. Jeno had always been a risk-taker though.

Today was cutting it a bit close though, as he had just gotten back, and was brushing himself off in the bathroom when his father called. Since when did his father personally come to his room, and without knocking? Well, he was the King, but still.

"Yes, father?" Jeno's voice wavered and cracked a little when he spoke, as there was still dust caught in his throat. "I'll be just out."

He quickly checked in the mirror for any signs of magic, straightened his hair, and walked out, shutting the door behind him. His father was waiting at the door, and his eyes automatically skirted across the room. No magic books laying out? Good. Thank god he had put them away in his shadow pocket.

"You will be attending an public execution with me and your brother today at sundown, so please dress accordingly." The man stated, emotionless, and started leaving his room. He had just started turning towards his wardrobe when his father added,

"Your room is a mess. Please clean it for your own good, son." Jeno froze, and the door shut behind the King.

When was the last time he had called him son? There was a strange feeling blossoming in his chest, unlike the quaint primroses sitting on his windowsill and amaryllises growing in the garden, but petunias. 

Blood red petunias.

/

After he had picked out his clothes and done his makeup, the sun was already starting to set, so he headed towards the public execution square. People were already gathered around it, so he stayed in the shadows, waiting for his father and brother. 

Another magic user would be killed today. Another one he couldn't save. But the shadow warrior like him did mean death and destruction, right? 

That meant he would need to do something about it. And soon.

A tap on his shoulder made him jump, and behind him stood his brother, wearing clothes similar to his. 

"Hey." Jeno tried to smile, and Doyoung patted his back, expression somber. Just then, the King appeared in front of them, so he quickly schooled his expression, feeling his brother tense and do the same. 

Everyone cheered as they walked into the clearing. Ordinary citizens, even the soldiers lining the square cracked proud smiles.

He fought back a scowl. How were these people cheering, out of all things, if they were here to view the death of an innocent person, wait scratch that, two?!

The guards hauled in two people, a child, and an elderly lady. He heard Doyoung gasp behind him, but he couldn't turn back to watch him, as that would be signaling something was off. 

_Two seers at once? Damn, the King was really pushing it._

"Lee Ji-Hyun, and Son Su-Jin are being sentenced to death on accounts of seer magic use." His father stated to the people, and he watched, making sure he had a poker face on, as the people cheered.

_Selfish bastards. Celebrating deaths of innocent people the monster standing in front of him declared a threat to the safety of their kingdom._

In the background of his agonizing, he felt his brother clutch his arm, squeezing it tightly. The executioner, who was rather young, started reading off a long list of charges against the two.

A voice, old and weary, entered his mind. He almost jolted in surprise, then realizing he was in public, and under the watchful gaze of his father.

_Today, the Light and Shadow Warriors are in the same square, so I will deliver this last message. Listen carefully._

In the distance, the crowd was clapping again, so he mindlessly fit in a few, before the voice started speaking again.

_In times of silver and gold_

_Shadow and Light will prevail, and shine bold_

_two sides of the same coin_

_but if they do not search, they will not join_

_Crrrrrack!!!_

The boy was dead, neck bent at an odd angle but the voice kept speaking. It must be the old woman who was speaking, as her eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

_Be careful, and always listen to each other_

_Two sides of this world, birthed from one mother_

_time is essence, your essence is our very time_

_Light and Shadow, don't run it wild,_

The excecutioner was raising his hand to pull the bar, that would kill the old lady now. Everything seemed to move so slowly, and Jeno found himself wanting to reach out, but he physically couldn't move his limbs--

_like the wild thyme_

Another crack. The woman was dead, blood starting to pool around her.

He broke free from his daze, and almost stumbled, as Doyoung and his father started moving beside him.

"C'mon, we gotta go before the crowd gets too rowdy." His brother nudged him away from the square, and into a waiting carriage.

The ride back to the palace was dead silent, until his father decided to break his silence. 

"So, sons, I'll be hosting a dinner with the King of the Western Kingdom in a few days." He lounged back on his side of the carriage, folding his hands behind his head.

How many lives had he taken with those hands, directly and indirectly? How much blood of innocents had he used to paint the picture of his success, adding thousands of lives, and even kingdoms, like brushes of paint?

His brother tensed when their father spoke of the Western Kingdom. He was no body language reader like Doyoung, but could sense something was off, something he didn't know was going on.

Jeno's mind drifted, to the execution today, and the prophecy that was whispered to him. Could all seers do mind talking? What did she mean, that the Light and Shadow warriors stood in the same square. Did she mean it figuratively, or literally?

If it was the latter, was the Light Warrior actually so close to him, but he had missed the chance to talk to them? Well, anyways, it would be very suspicious and unprincelike, to roam the clearing for them, too.

Unprincelike. These days, he felt more like a servant than an actual prince, stuck in the same routine, patrol, report to his father, practice magic, sleep, repeat.

But again, all people were servants weren't they? They were all tied to something in this life. Even his father was one, tied to this godforsaken country, fated to rule until his death.

_I shouldn't be overanalyzing this, right? Ugh, why do seers have to be so damn cryptic sometimes, when the clues were in our faces the entire time?_

He slapped the thought away. This woman had died today, and her prophecy was the last gift to them, and the world.

When he got to his room, he waved a quick greeting to Mark, the slipped into his pocket realm, the only place that felt safe in the entire universe. Like it was his.

_____________________________

Jaemin stumbled along the road back to the warehouse, Ten walking beside him. 

He had known he was the Light warrior as soon as he had gotten to the capitol, with the whispers of the people, and the book. In his old village, no one talked about the cursed warriors, bringing bloodshed and change. Here, though, their names were mentioned in every conversation, people cursing them out. If he hadn't been the warrior himself, he would've pitied them. 

It was still vividly surreal, being something so big, and he had never been directly contacted before. Until today.

"Hey, you okay? You look out of it." The older said next to him.

Jaemin nodded, turning to the man. "We need to up our numbers. Something substantial. More and more magic users are being targeted and killed, and we can't just save them one by one. It's like taking one step forward and two steps backward."

Ten cocked his head, considering the information. "At least we're going somewhat forward, on the positive side."

They turned off the main road into a smaller alley, and he put his hands on the shorter man's shoulders, almost pressing him against the grime covered wall. A few passerby gave them weird looks, but he ignored them.

"In the King and the Elite's eye, there is no positive side. They have tasted victory all their lives, so they can assume the magic will be erased once this war is over. The four kingdoms are supposed to live in harmony. If we win this war, where's the King going to look next? The deep south, past the Samudra Ocean? He'll fight until every single person under his rule has perished." He hissed, pushing him a bit, then suddenly releasing his hold on him, causing Ten to stumble a bit.

"Jaemin, you must remember that I am the leader of this organization. Even if you joined at the beginning, you will respect my decisions. Unless your priority is to destroy the King, then we have the same goals. But it is my call on how we get to them." He turned away from him, speeding up his walk.

_Okay then, two can go at it._

He matched up with his stride, and whispered in his ear.

"But I'm the Light Warrior, and you need me. I'm the sole reason our sorry lot has any semblance of hope. So we need to man up, and we need information. What do you think?" Jaemin shrugged against the older's shoulders, and hid a smirk.

Ten froze, face devoid of any emotion, and slowly nodded. "Fine."

No one said anything the rest of the walk home.

Sometimes, life wasn't a matter of holding good cards, but of playing a poor hand well. But it was funny how fast the tables could turn.

/

"Hyung, hyung, hyung!" Right after he got to his room and flopped onto his bed, tired of the day's events, Jisung and Chenle barged in his room.

"How was today?" His brother smiled, and settled down at the edge of the bed, patting his back a few times. The other boy sat next to him.

"I had to watch another execution." Jaemin ran a hand through his hair, turning over. He watched as the easygoing expression disappeared off both of their faces.

"Who was it?" Jisung asked, voice small.

"Two this time. Seers. If Ten doesn't do something, I could be up there the next time." He sighed shortly, averting his gaze, and looking up at the stone ceiling of the room.

He heard Chenle slump on the bed with disappointment, but his brother remained upright.

"Are you not telling us something, hyung? I know you don't always have to, but--"

"The old woman at the gallows talked to me." He let the words slide out of his mouth. 

"H-how? The Princes, and the King were there, right? If she was talking to you...." He trailed off.

"She used mind-speak. I'm not sure how, but she, like spoke in my mind." The more he thought about it, the more confusing it got. Seers couldn't speak with their minds, right? 

Jisung furrowed his brow in confusion. "Well, what did she say?" 

Jaemin took out a notebook and jotted down everything the woman had spoke to him in his head then handed it to the two younger boys. They read it quickly, eyes gradually widening.

"You met the Shadow Warrior? Who are they?" Chenle asked, eyes big.

"Ah, about that. I didn't get to see them." He grimaced. He had been too immersed in the shock, the fact that the woman was talking to him, that he didn't digest the words, until the royal family left, the people following after.

He let out a groan. "You could've met the Shadow warrior, and then do your world saving shit together!"

"No swearing, Jisung. Plus, you can't just mention it like that. We both know it goes so much deeper." Jaemin tutted. "Anyways, you have any ideas about the prophecy yet?"

His brother shook his head, but Chenle kept staring at the words, like they'd start popping off the page and reading themselves to him.

"You should find your warrior. This says to not waste time. Maybe if you two meet, we can be one step closer to winning this war." Jisung pressed. 

"Well, we basically seem like a beacon to danger and darkness and all the shit in the books, so quickening our impending doom doesn't seem ideal, does it?" Jaemin shrugged, handing the notebook back to them.

"Think on the bright side. After the storm comes a rainbow." Chenle added. 

"That doesn't happen every time, you know. Also, you sound like Ten, and no offense, but I hate that." He was being difficult, and he knew he shouldn't, but sometimes there was absolutely no hope, and--

"There's a difference between optimism and ignorance, hyung. Only you'll know what you truly want."

_What do I truly want?_

He remembered where Chenle had come from. When his family's line of shops had collapsed because of rumors that magic people frequented there. Running away from loan sharks that had coincidentally been part of a local gang and killed his parents. Jaemin himself finding him hiding in an alley, dirty and shaking with fear. Bringing him to the house, and them learning the gang who was tailing him also targeted magic folk, so he had ended up joining their cause.

The younger boy had it much worse than him. If he had been in his shoes, not particularly admirably, he would've probably died already. But Chenle stayed strong, by staying optimistic, and looked at the bright side of things. 

If he tried, could he? After all, his mother had told him to stay strong. He was acting the part on some extent, but inside? Trying didn't hurt, right?

He would try to be better. Live up to the expectations of the Light warrior. His expectations.

/

They were hunched over a fairly updated map of the castle that had been near torturous to obtain. As there were new parts added to the old structure, and older passageways being filled up and blocked, no one really mapped the castle anymore.

"We will sneak in some men through the unguarded servant's entrance, and then the supply entrance under kitchens, which aren't going to be very full at that hour, as the cooks are all upstairs preparing dinner, or serving it. We'll rendezvous at the passage entrance, which is hidden behind the second storage closet to the right of the hallway." Jaemin traced the map, making eye contact with all the people standing in a circle. "Understand?"

Ten continued. "Then, the passage will lead to the hall next to the dining hall. Your only goal is to target the King, nothing else. If you have to, I allow you to kill everyone else in the room. This meeting is over."

The members started filing out of the room, but he turned around and motioned him to stay. Jaemin panicked. Had he been too daring yesterday? Crossed a line?

Thinking about it, he knew next to nothing about Ten. Was that good, or bad? He could be a mass murderer for all he knew.

_Jaemin, think towards the bright side. You promised, remember?_

He didn't let his thoughts stray too much, as the man made his way towards him, and sat on the couch, inviting him to do the same. He slung an arm around him, and Jaemin was surprised at the skinship, but relaxed into his arm.

"I've realized, that we don't move the world, the world moves on itself, and we just can move with it." A terse smile.

What was he getting at?

"The King has passed a law that all men older than 18 with legal status will be drafted into the army, to fight against the West. I'm afraid it won't be long until he requires all men, verification or not, to enlist. Then, he'll lower the age threshold, so we have to fight against him. The faster the King is dead, the better. I'm positive Taeyong won't follow in his steps, and he's arguably old enough to lead. In fact, I used to personally know him."

Jaemin gaped. "Seriously?"

Ten nodded. "I don't reveal much about my personal life, do I?" 

When he shook his head, he continued. "I'm from the Southern Islands, and was sold into being a servant during the King's early days. I actually was Taeyong's personal servant, until things got too intimate, and well, someone caught us, and kicked me out, taking the blame for herself. Thank god she was smart enough, or the Prince's reputation would've been seriously ruined."

"Then, what happened? Did they lock you up?" He asked, eyes wide.

The older shook his head. "I escaped before the palace guards could get to me. They probably wouldn't want to waste the energy either. Taeyong used to always tell me how his father was an absolute monster, and only wanted him to follow in his footsteps if he died. But Yong was stubborn and good natured at heart." A wistful look came over his eyes.

"You remind me of him." Jaemin looked up at the older man's eyes, a bit glazed over. "Your curious nature, the way both of you are always so impatient, and just..." He trailed off, quickly dabbing at his eyes. 

"Good. You're both still naive, even though you've seen enough violence, corruption, for a lifetime and a half. You dream big, and I really like people like that." His voice caught in his throat at the end, and he enveloped him in a hug, patting his shoulder.

"It'll be okay. Everything will be okay. But sometimes, it's okay to not be okay. Let your feelings out." As the words came out of his mouth, they felt more like words to himself, than comfort.

"After the storm, comes a rainbow. But it'll only come if you've truly accepted it." 

Ten rested his face in his shoulder, and Jaemin could feel wetness on his heacy shoulder, and in the corners of his own eyes, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy I released two chapters at once, but that is legit all I wrote so far lmao  
> hope you enjoy, shit doesn't really hit the fan till like chapters 4 or 5  
> gets better, then gets worse, then gets better again (okay I really should stop w the spoilersss)  
> unbetaed, and I'm running on coffee and adrenaline, so spelling errors galore!!!  
> hope you enjoy!  
> 


	3. The Rebel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// blood, fighting, food(???)

Jeno straightened his collar, making his way towards the dining room. Servants flanked him, and he felt like he was walking straight towards his doom. 

Humans had some sense of warning instincts, even if they were wrong almost half of the time, right? 

The number of guards patrolling the walls were lessened by a great amount, which was odd. A foreign power visiting the castle, especially a somewhat estranged one to the King, would call for more protection, right?

He shook off the feeling, straightening his back, and patting his hair as he made his way to the Great Hall. Again, little to no guards. Thank god he had strapped some daggers and a gun under his robes.

The attendant announced his entrance, and everything felt muted, but more vibrant at the same time. He made his way into the dining room striding with an aura of Warrior's End soldier. His father, brother, and the Western Kingdom's royal family sat there. He put on his best smile, and made his way towards the only empty seat.

The splitting image of an ice prince, cocky and confident, a bit rebellious. The image of a Warrior's End graduate, an Elite.

Honestly that was everything he wasn't. But Jeno was good at acting, gifted with the talent of lying and deceiving since birth. It was what Elite did for a living. Lie, kill, and then do it again.

"The dinner will commence." One of the guards said, leaning against the wall. Wasn't he supposed to be rigid straight, especially in a foreign power's--

All the candles blew out, and the doors burst open, men rushing in. 

Yep, Jeno was definitely glad he brought his weapons today.

_________________________

Jaemin and the rebels waited behind the doorway as the foreign royal family filed in. They had made quick work of the guards, slipping a magic enhanced drug into their food the day before, temporarily paralyzing them for the next day or two. So only a handful littered the room, all standing with blank expressions.

Ten was outside, acting as a guard. He straightened when the King had entered, but was in a relaxed posture now, picking at his nails with a small blade.

He faintly recalled his mother saying the hosts should appear first in a dinner like this, but it looked like the Southern King was no stickler for tradition. 

He walked in, Prince Taeyong and his brother Doyoung following, a good 10 minutes later, when the family, consisting of a man, woman and their son had started conversing in another language, faces clearly annoyed.

He felt Yangyang laugh silently beside him, chest moving, then shut his mouth as quick as he opened it when Jaemin nudged him, hard.

They settled down in their seats, but no one spoke, all looking toward the door. He realized they were waiting on someone.

5 more stuffy minutes passed. No one spoke, or shifted. The room was deadly silent, when the door whipped open, and a man walked in. 

Prince Jeno.

He hadn't seen the Prince up close, just faint figures standing at the execution yesterday, but damn, he was handsome. He almost felt bad if they ended up killing him today.He was dressed in different robes than the others, and everyone looked, including the King, who gave him a stare of disdain mixed with some twisted sort of pride.

Jaemin watched as he sat down in his seat, flicking his robes with a swish. Ten smirked at them, then opened his mouth. He prepared his power. 

"The dinner will commence." 

_Snap!_

He flicked his hands, and all the light traveled into them. It felt exhilarating in a way. The more energy, more efficient he was.

The room was drowned in shadow, tables turned into lumps of black. Suddenly everyone moved. Guards with their swords drawn, royal family nowhere in sight. But they all froze, the rebel group included. Jaemin watched helplessly as the royal families fled from the corner of his eye. But who was causing this? Even if it was a magic user, they couldn't do something like this, could they?

Then, like a spell, everyone was released, and the candles suddenly lit up again. Jaemin had a notion, actually no, it was unmissable now.

The Shadow Warrior was among them.

Jeno barked an order, and the guards started moving. Of course. He was the only Elite in the room, and they were the highest ranked soldiers.Everything was chaos. He soon came face to face with a beefy man, face hiding behind a silver mask. He drew his long knife, blade glinting and slashed at the man, dodging a swing from his sword.The guard clearly had the upper hand, being bigger and holding a bigger weapon, and Jaemin only had his speed and smaller figure against him.

_Disarm the man, and then go in._

With a few well placed punches, he had the man pinned against one of the seats. He dropped his sword, watery eyes terrified under the mask. Some trained guard. Probably some lord's son who paid his way to the top. He had just grabbed the sword, whirling around when he came face to face with Prince Jeno.

He had remained? He seemed like the man to orchestrate everything and give all the orders, then flee at first drop of blood. It looked like he wasn't his image after all. But he could be making an assumption. The thoughts were knocked off his head when he leaned in, grabbing him by the collar, pressing the sword against his throat. 

His surrounding became blurry when he stared into the Prince's eyes, dark with mirth, and something else he couldn't place. He too, also had a mask on now, but was still dressed in the formal robes, probably slashed by now. 

A figure advanced to his back, Ten. Jaemin didn't know to feel relieved or even more worried when Jeno went to duel with Ten, disarming him with a few strikes. He stood there, frozen over.

"Trying to evaluate my fighting style? Well I'm telling you this. I show my technique to only one type of person."

His heart filled with dread, so he picked up his sword, swinging around, but was caught by his foot.

"The people I'm about to kill."

Jaemin lunged at him again, but Jeno was Warrior's End trained, from the best military academy in the entire nation. Still holding Ten, he twisted his other arm, promptly disarming him. 

_Fuck. He would kill Ten, and then come for him._

But he suddenly let Ten go, and the man took the chance to bolt as fast as he could, and he turned to Jaemin.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I don't kill in my own home. It's unethical, and considering my job, I would like to keep some sort of moral." He smiled, this time equal as icy, but mixed with something else. 

Regret? Disgust at the scene around them?

"Now go. I'm really fucking tired and don't want to fight anymore." Jaemin was turning to go when he heard the Prince clear his throat. 

_Go, Jaem. You don't want him to change his mind._

But he stayed, and swiveled his body towards him.

"Great job for making your way into this castle, though. I wouldn't even have thought of this plan." He smiled under the mask, eyes crinkling.

As arrogant the Prince could be, he did have a heart after all. 

____________________________

Once all of the rebels had ran away, leaving quite a few bloody bodies, Jeno sighed and walked out of the room.

He knocked on the door of the private safe where the two families were huddled, then opened it.

"They've all been killed." He said, glancing around the room. His father grinned sadistically.

"Good. Tell the guards to clear out the mess." He said curtly, and climbed out of the safe, servants scrambling to keep up with him.

Jeno fumed with anger. How could his father do something like that, treating the lives of his kingdom like garbage? And yet so many people worshipped him, like some sort of god.He brushed off his robes, and turned to the royal family of the West.

"We are extremely sorry for this inconvenience. We hope you can forgive us. The dinner will be rescheduled to tomorrow night, if you're okay with it?" Taeyong bowed, always the diplomat.

Doyoung looked at them and smiled, face pained. He felt the same, but inside, keeping a solemn face instead.

They voiced their approvals, and turned to leave, when he spoke up.

"We can promise you this won't happen tomorrow. You have the word of the Princes of the Southern Kingdom, your sovereignty." Jeno added. Taeyong looked at him with an unmasked expression, filled with shock and alarm, but Doyoung just hid a smile, patting his back.

_Good job, Jen._

/

"Oh my god, Jeno, are you okay?" Mark rushed up to him once he had reached his quarters.

He nodded, then wincing when his leg hit the door rather hard. He had probably knocked it against one of the couches or tables. 

"You're covered in blood! Come on, get in. I'll help clean you up." He ushered him in, and sat him on the bed. 

"There was a rebel attack." He said, as he removed the heavy robes, observing his forearms as Mark used a bit of his magic to wash the blood off and heal the bruises.

What happened to the dinner with the family, then?" Mark tried to make conversation.

"Postponed." 

Seeing Jeno's state, he pushed on.

"Something wrong?" His eyes were wide, and looking down at him concerned.

"Nah, I'm just tired. They must've had an air elemental among them, because the candles blew out. I had to light them back." He sighed. "I need to regulate my use of magic in a better way." Maybe it was just the buildup of stress from the last few days that made him suddenly unnaturally tired.

"Wait, you said you could put them back? How? You're not a fire elemental, only fire elementals can draw flame out of energies." A flabbergasted Mark took his shoulders tightly and he felt a twinge of dread rising in his stomach. 

"Was the room like really dark? Darker than normal? Like all the light had been sucked out?" Jeno stared at his friend, bloodied robes, dinner parties, and fighting all forgotten, and nodded once.

"Then the Light Warrior definitely was there."

_Fuck._

"Mark, if you were in my place, what would you have done?" He pressed, twisting so he could look at the older.

Mark thought for a second. "I'm honestly not too sure. Especially in the presence of so many people, I wouldn't want to out myself. I bet they wouldn't have wanted that, either."

"Wait, there's something I just don't get. How can they take away the light, and how could I have put it back? Isn't that going against our roles or something?" He wondered aloud. 

"In this world, there are no roles, even if people believe so. You are a person, you, capable of making your own actions." Was all his friend said. 

He continued, face scrunched up. "Honestly I think we don't have fears, but are just afraid of the consequences we face of performing that action or seeing it."

Jeno nodded at the words. "You're really smart Mark, you should know that." He sighed, running his hands through his blood matted hair.

"Wasn't born and raised a crown prince for thirteen years, was I now?" He replied, rather cynically.

Jeno winced. "Ah shit, I'm sorry, I overstepped your boundaries, I'll--"

"It's okay. You're honestly in a harder spot than I ever was in." 

"Just saying, the King will not have taken this attack for granted, as relations with the West are a bit....strained right now. To the royal family themselves, he'll state that he doesn't care much. But inside, he wants to prove himself. So if the Light Warrior is actually part of that rebel group...." He trailed off, and Jeno realized the monstrosity of the situation he was in.

"Then I'll be hunting them down."

__________________________

_around a week or two ago_

Finally. The gargantuan lumps that formed the mountain borders of what was the Northern Kingdom loomed in view. His entourage was smaller this time, consisting of a few bodyguards.

His sons couldn't know about this. Especially Jeno.

_My shadow warrior, the only asset of the South._

Any border towns he passed were all burnt to crisps, habitants long dead or lost in the vast forests that stretched for leagues beyond the farthest reaching spyglass. What was beyond, nobody knew. But he had to brave the risks, to meet with the Ghouls, that inhabited the deepest caves on the highest mountains. With their help, he could beat the numerous magic users, the monsters, and the Shaolin trained warriors that made up the formidable army of the West.

_Then, I truly have the world in my hands._

He held up a hand, and everyone halted.

"We wait till nightfall, and then I go, alone. If I don't come back in a week's time, return to the capital, pronounce me dead from rebels, and crown Taeyong." He spoke briskly, and the men nodded.

/

Once the sun had fully set, the man rode into the mountains. No torches, as the ghouls hated light. He left his horse on a wooden post, rotted with the seasons. It would probably run away at some point, as the night here was dangerous, even to the bravest souls.

"Ah, finally, the King has arrived. We've been expecting you." A hissy voice sounded, when he had stepped into the cave. The entrance was nowhere to be seen now, either hidden by the shadows of the setting sun or the ghouls themselves.

"I am your King. Your home is my land." He bit out, ignoring the chills that spread around his body when the words came out of his mouth.

"Ah, that's where we disagree. We have our own King, the bearer of shadows, the dark soul. You are the ruler of the weak human race." He couldn't see anything at this point. 

"If we're weak, then why don't you end us?" The question was testy and rash, but it would do.

This seemed to rile the ghoul up. "We are shadow ghouls, and your kind survive by light. We do not wish, in any circumstance, to go against our very own nature." The hissy voice echoed along the entire cave.

"I apologize for my insensitive behavior and words to your kind. May I have an audience with your sovereign?" 

_Win some, lose some in everything, except make the other think he's winning._

The ghoul seemed to hesitate, and then sigh, drawing back a faint path of starlight. He hadn't realized the cave had opened up, and the sky was visible. So this was the true home of the infamous shadow ghouls, believed to be legend, up until now. The man looked around, seeing blank stone wall for feet on end. He walked deeper and deeper, down into the ground, and the natural light of the stars gradually lessened, making the caves pitch black. Yet he walked on, confidently. A true ruler would always know where to put his feet.

Finally, he reached the innermost chamber of the caves, where the Shadow King dwelled. 

"Oh, everything that rivals the light my kind relies on, I call on you."

The only sound for a few moments was the water dripping off the walls, but then, everything turned cold. The water froze, icicles dripping on the cold floor.

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

The shadows moved, and revealed a cloaked figure, whos striking dark brown eyes shone through the darkness.

Eyes that perfectly mirrored his son's.

"What do we have here? A human King? I've never seen one of you before. Just as puny as the shadows describe, though I have to admit you're more reckless than most." His voice was as hissy as the ghoul he had met at the entrance, maybe even more so.

"I come with a small request." The man stated firmly, pursing his lips and looking straight into the darkness.

"A request? I do not accept requests, or favors, in your case, without a bargain." He was intrigued, he could tell. 

"No worries, I have one." This conversation was going where he exactly intended it to be. Turned out the ghouls were all bark and no bite, huh?

"What is the chip you speak of?" It turned colder around him, as the ghoul lingered closer.

"My youngest, the famed shadow warrior." 

He seemed to consider, in the beats of silence that followed. By now, the sun had fully set, shadowing the cave even more.

"Alright. What is it you ask for?" The King whispered, and he fought back a shiver. Damn, this place was cold.

He ignored the chattering in his teeth and replied confidently, "The water magic users of our kingdom have been wrecking havoc in the system, and I need your help to root them out and destroy them."

_____________________________________

With no surprise, the King asked to speak with them the next morning.

"You will travel to the light festival celebration in the old district. Join in the whispers, word has definitely gotten out about this attack. Find the group, and join them. Then, you will relay anything back to me." He looked around the room, meeting eyes with each and every one of the Dream Squad. "Good?"

"Do not let word of this mission get out to anyone. You will go undercover during the festival tonight and look for any traces of magic first, as the guards described an air magic user."

Jeno felt relieved, almost, that he didn't know. But then his father fixated his gaze on him, and he was jerked back to reality.

"As the leader of the Southern Kingdom's youngest and best Elite Squadron, and the Prince of this Kingdom, I expect you will get this job done precisely, and quickly, with no errors to set an example."

 _Basically code for if you don't do well, you'll die._ He could feel the gazes mixed of pity and admiration given to him by his teammates. It was common knowledge that the youngest Prince headed one of the squadrons, and common knowledge how hard his father was on him.

At this point, he could only hope for a miracle. In no circumstance, would he kill them. No chances. Faking a death? Impossible, as his father wanted them alive, to execute them in a display of power over his citizens.

Who really held the power, though? Well, if he could get the support of the Elite teams.......

"Fuck, a whole rebel team now? He's fucking insane, the bastard." Renjun whispered to him as they walked out of the room.

"Yeah, plus he gave us no leads. Magic users blend in very well these days, so they'll be hard to catch." He internally winced, speaking those words. Jeno was a very good actor, as he said so himself, but hated doing it.

The shorter boy also looked down. If only he knew Jeno's secret.

Renjun was one of the only transfers from the Western Kingdom's infamous military school. Or so he said. He had accidentally heard him and Lucas, another of his teammates talking, and he was far from such.

Did he know his family was so close by, in the same exact castle? It was honestly funny at this point, knowing two hidden princes who went by different identities. 

It was common knowledge that Prince Minhyung, or Mark, had perished sometime in the war between the South and the North. But Renjun was barely known. Crown Prince Kun and Prince Sicheng were the Princes of the West, and they had a sibling that was rarely talked about. 

That was Renjun. Around eight years ago, a fatal accident had killed the second prince, and after he did a bit of digging, there was no coincidence. All the dates and the time frame in general, the boy travelling here, joining the academy matched up. He didn't know what exactly went down that night, but the boy walking beside him right now definitely had something to do with it.

Damn, he knew too much. Now, he had some semblance to how Doyoung felt. Like he was responsible for everything, for everything he knew about. It didn't feel good at all. Yeah, he was going to die either way. Why not save as many people from meeting a similar fate as him, on the way by trying?

_________________________

Fuck. Another vision was coming, and there was no Halmeoni to care for him anymore. Doyoung took cover in his bathroom, hoping no one would knock, and everything swirled into black.

This time, he was in the underbelly in the capital city of the Southern Kingdom. He saw his brother(again?!), and his Elite Squad were there. But they never frequented the slums, where it was a literal haven for prostitution, gambling, and nightly murders. The lanterns for the Light festival were hanging, which meant it was going to happen pretty soon, this night or the next.

What were they doing there?

As if he was actually asking a question, someone answered him.

_The Shadow and Light Warriors will meet soon. Prince or head seer, you cannot make them meet. Things will only go downhill, and neither of them are ready. Do not make them meet._

The voice was pressing, and sent shivers down his spine.

Then, like a thunderstorm on a willowy summer day, everything suddenly cleared, and he found himself lying on the cold bathroom stone again.

What in hell, prevent them from meeting? He had read the stories, and only they would bring destruction, and then save them. What was the point here, if they would create a mess, and fix it? And why did the vision show his brother's Elite team? Was someone in the team the Shadow Warrior? He gasped for the second time that day. 

It all matched up perfectly.

The Light Warrior was someone in the rebel team that had attacked last night, and the Shadow Warrior was someone in the Elite team, being sent down there to track him down. He knew he had to warn the team, most preferably through his brother, but he couldn't. Doyoung would be sent to die. For what? Delaying the eventual meeting of two people?

Damn the voice in his visions.

How more complicated could this even get?

He knew he had to make a choice right then and there, and for the first time in his life, didn't know what he was supposed to do.

Warn his brother, and risk outing himself? Or keep quiet, and hope for the best?

Doyoung finally went with the second choice, hoping for the best either way.

_Shit. The dinner._

A rather drained Doyoung made his way to the private dining room. This could be his chance to warn his brother about the mission. Wait, his father would've made this mission secret, so he shouldn't know. In the small chance his brother found out, he would still question how he found out.

Fuck, it wouldn't work out. What a difficult situation he had found himself in. He almost laughed, but realized he was in the presence of foreign royals. He shot a nervous smile to Kun, and he gave one back, despite it being more muted. 

Soon after, Taeyong and Jeno came in together and bowed. How fitting, the King's model sons. Strong, smart, and handsome. Everything a Prince was supposed to be in his father's hawk eye.

_Speak of the devil._

The King strode in, not a hair out of place, when Doyoung realized he hadn't paid much attention to his hair by the passing concerned gazes of his brothers(more like distaste from Taeyong), and a dirty glance from his father before he smiled saccharinely at the three people sitting at the table. He caught a hint of metal under his robes when he flicked them, taking a seat.

No fucking way. Was he planning to kill them tonight? His father was reckless and a major risktaker, but this was a pure act of the devil. Taeyong didn't notice(or pretended not to) but he caught the eyes of and exchanged a panicked glance with his youngest brother.

What was he going to do this time? He knew the Western King and Queen were both highly intelligent people, clearly reflected in Kun, so he prayed that they would see through whatever tricks he definitely had hidden up his sleeve. At this point, the blade seemed like a last resort.

Platter after platter of mouthwatering food was piled up on the table, and Doyoung had to restrain himself from shoving it all in his mouth. It wasn't his fault visions made him so damn hungry every time.

"It is our pleasure to welcome and serve the oh so prestigious royal family of the legendary Kingdom of the West." Another fake smile.

He felt Jeno tense as the foreign monarchs rose to return the greeting. They hid it well, but he could tell they weren't too happy, bowing stiffly and never smiling once.

"Thank you for the invitation and this generous feast. We are grateful you have decided to reach out with your efforts at this time."

Oh, so they weren't playing any bit. No beating around the bush or council meeting remakes this time. Doyoung was almost relieved this time he wouldn't have to sit through something so awkward, but then came to reality. 

This was two heads of two kingdoms, one older than time itself, and another with a power hungry ambitious ruler at its head, who had just conquered two kingdoms whose sizes were two to three times the size of his.

"May I study the military school of yours? Warrior's End has been declining since my youngest son's year, and we could use some new techniques." He smiled, twirling the fork around.

He fell into a daze as the two rulers spoke, conversation again drenched in sweetness neither could handle for too long. But the question was, who would snap first?

It turned out to be his father, who whispered something unintelligible to a guard next to him. 

Instantly, the entire council filed in, lining up against the wall. He took out his knife, and instead of gutting the royal family like Doyoung expected him to, turned to the councilmen standing against the wall. 

The royal family, his brothers, and the councilmen were staring with blatant looks of shocks on their faces. The King smiled, an ugly smile filled with mirth.

Did this please him? Taking lives to prove something?

The man took his sweet time, polishing the knife and looking around the line of about ten men, and his eyes zeroed in on one.

Councilman Lee. Donghyuck's father. His very own brother, and Doyoung's uncle.

Shit. He wasn't very fond of him or his son but if he actually killed him--

His brother suddenly stood up. "May I add something to this conversation, father?"

The King lowered his knife, turning to his youngest son. "Not now, Lee Jeno. Did Warrior's End teach you anything useful? Sit down right now." His voice was calm and stable, but eyes burned with fury.

The one weakness he could identify in his otherwise impeccable wall of his father. His eyes. 

But his purpose had been fulfilled. The council promptly dashed out, guards hesitant on getting them back or not. His father, clearly annoyed, sheathed his knife and sat back down.

His father didn't bat a single eyelash at the mess and turned back to the table. "Now, looking at my son, a trained Warrior's End top student's atrocious behavior, will you so graciously agree to the small request of mine?" 

_______________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, this is a wild ride in itself, but honestly, i'd consider it a filler chapter lol  
> writing in doyoung's pov is actually really fun, should I have made this doyoung centric???? or maybe dy spinoff????  
> also like everyone is dumb, I left out a lot of stuff oops  
> hehe enjoy  
> 


	4. The Mask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: blood, mentions of death, weapons

After the dinner had ended, Jeno quickly excused himself from the stuffy dining room and hurried back up to his rooms, taking the shortest route possible. 

Right as he got to his room, Mark was splayed out on his bed, reading a book. Shooting a "can't talk, shit happened." at the older, he disappeared into the shadow realm. He'd figure out what happened sooner or later.

This time, he was in a field of dark blue and white wildflowers. He lay down, not caring if the flowers died.

Actually, nothing died here. They were all lost, trying to find their way back to reality. Like him.

But was it really worth finding in itself?

Reality for most people was bland, days of working and working the same boring tasks. That was for the higher classes. He could only watch helplessly, as farmers and workers slaved under inhumane conditions, while most of their crop went to feed the empire's higherups. How storeowners were taxed to death, and the money going to again, who? The high ups.

Hypothetically speaking, his job as Elite, hunting different people and travelling to different places in the kingdom would be the most sought after and interesting. It was every young boy's dream to be accepted into Warrior's End. For many, it was. He wallowed in his self pity, letting out a loud sigh.No one would notice him here. They couldn't hear him, judge him, in their heads or to his face. 

He hoped, if his father perished without making his kingdom go down with him, he could convince Taeyong to let all kinds of people, not just noblemen's sons into the school, girls included. 

But that was just a dream, among many other fantasies he had. He'd have to face his reality tomorrow.

The King and councilmen had surprisingly kept the event under wraps, so thankfully no one knew about the fiasco that had happened in the King's private dinner with the foreign royal family last night. Taeyong was sent to do damage control with the general public, and shot Jeno a dirty look when they passed each other in the halls. He did end up filling Mark in the day after, though.

Right after he had gotten dressed, a ruffled Donghyuck burst in the door, crashing into him.

"Thank you so much, oh my god. I don't know what I'd do if he had actually killed him. I tell you, when I heard the news, I rode back so fast I probably left my lungs in the Islands." He breathed hard into his shirt. He let out a hearty laugh, patting the younger on the back. "Yeah. You should thank me, you know."

Donghyuck scoffed. "Thank you? When that despicable human being is alive?" 

"And so why are you in my arms now?" 

The younger pushed him off roughly, then stood back, checking him out.

"Well, well, well. I haven't seen you in three years. You've grown a lot--are you seriously taller than me now?" His cousin groaned and fell into his bed, making him laugh.

"Yeah, it's the royal blood." Jeno played along, smiling.

"You do realize whatever blood you have, I have it too?" 

He shut up at that, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

"Anyways, how's life?" Donghyuck dragged the word, switching the subject.

"Shitty. I got a mission tonight, and it's in the slums. You know how much I hate that place. Too much people." He wrinkled his nose.

"Suck for you, I guess." Donghyuck nodded, sticking out his tongue. He slapped him on the shoulder.

"You don't wanna know what it is? You've always been one for gossip." He poked him in the side, causing him to roll over, almost colliding with the boy.

"Well, what is it then?" 

"Dream squad has to catch a rebel group." He sighed. Maybe if he didn't talk about it, it could turn into another dream of his.

"Ohhhh. So that's why it's so shitty. Even I wouldn't blame everything on the slums, eh?" His attempt at humor made Jeno smile a bit.

It was nice talking to Hyuck again, after years of just letters. His presence in the room made everything brighter.

"Yeah. Sucks even more that the light warrior is in the group." This was the first time he had openly admitted this to another person other than Mark.

"You're fucking, right?" Donghyuck's voice was filled with shock.

A shake of his head turned the sunny boy quiet.

They lapsed into silence until the door opened, and Mark walked in, tugging a shirt above his head.

"Jen, is Yeeun over again? I swear, all that girl does is--" He noticed Donghyuck laying on the bed next to him, and his face promptly turned even more pale than normal.

"Uh, is everything okay?" Jeno dumbly asked, internally knowing it wasn't.

His eyes flicked to his cousin, who had froze next to him, rapidly blinking his eyes, like he was trying to confirm if he was actually standing in front of him.

"Ah, u-uh, Mark, this is my cousin Donghyuck. His father was the one my father tried to kill at the dinner a few nights ago, so he's here now." He trailed off at the end, noticing how the two boys were still gaping at each other.

"Um, earth to Mark and Hyuck? If you're communicating telepathically, please do include me. Definitely not an order this time."

/

Lucas groaned beside him as he shrugged on protective gear instead of the usual armor, as they were going undercover.

"I really don't want to do this. Missions are part of our job and shit, but this was definitely not included in the job description." He sighed, strapping a knife under his sleeve.

Jeno nodded. "It did say any job the King wanted, but this is rather unexpected." He laughed at the end.

He always supported his members, and never intimated them unless it was absolutely necessary. He was seen more as one of them, a dreamie, and not like a leader they would fear, one that would punish them or out their secrets.

He realized how lucky they were all, having a team like this, that were actually close by choice, not just people stuck together by the head of the academy.

They reached the border of the town and the slums. People milled around, beggars and wide eyed children. He motioned them into an alley.

"Let loose, have a bit of fun. Don't get too drunk, or I'll be responsible for each of your sorry asses." He said, earning a few chuckles from the group.

"Anyways, always prioritize your safety over anything. But do keep an eye on people, socialize a bit. Remember the mission." Jeno continued, making eye contact with every member in his team.

"Yo dream,"

"Jjeoreo juja fighting!"

________________________________

They had been healing up, patching up the injured members from the failed raid two days ago. Jaemin and Ten skirted around the topic of the youngest prince. But they both knew, if he hadn't spared them, they wouldn't be standing here right now. Also the touchy topic of the shadow warrior.

When he had been caught looking longingly outside the window in his room, the older heaved a sigh and nodded.

"Fine, have some fun tonight. You've been working hard. Bring Jisung and Chenle along, they could use it too." He smiled, and turned back outside the door.

So here they were, exploring the streets of the city and heading towards the square, where a masquerade dance would start at 10.

He sent the younger boys off, making them promise to not get drunk, and to meet him at the bell tower at midnight.

"Have fun! You deserve it!" He waved and smiled as they ran off towards a stand with piping hot food.

He wasn't too hungry, so he bought a steamed bun off a vendors stand and ventured closer to where they were handing out masks for the dance. They were all hand sewn by the palace ladies, and decorated with tassels, ribbon and glitter. Jaemin admired the details and quality of the dark lace used on his. A snake mask. 

_Fitting._ The voice in his head echoed, and he scrunched up his face, getting rid of it. With delicate hands, he picked a cup of liquor to drink. Probably cheap, and mixed with piss, considering the place they were served in. Yep, it definitely tasted like it.

He meandered onto the dance floor, eyes automatically flitting around for exit routes and spots he'd be vulnerable to attack. After he downed the cup, he felt a warm feeling in his throat.

Just in case. Nothing would happen with so many people from the poorer part of the city, right? Most of them weren't big advocates for the King's "get rid of all magic" campaign anyways. He was safe.

_I can't get too drunk today. I gotta take care of Chenle and Jisung too._

The music started playing, a light waltz, and a few dance and drinks later, Jaemin found himself staring up, no, at a man with a dragon mask. Not one of a bright red flame breathing beast you'd find in a nursery story, but a pure black one instead. One that probably breathed black flames.

"May I take this dance with you?" 

Despite them being the same height, his presence was overbearing, and the voice reminded him of something, or someone familiar.

He shook the thought off, he was already drunk off his ass, so he accepted with a nod, quickly placing his arms on the stranger's broad shoulders when the music started, both swaying to the beat.

Jaemin had been taught classic ballroom dancing by his mother, so he slipped into a familiar routine. The man seemed to do the same.

"So what's your name, darling?" He puffed hot breaths onto his ear, and it tickled.

"Nana." He slurred/said, grinning at the snake masked man in front of him.

"You're Nana?" He continued when he nodded. "Then I'm Nono."

"What job do you work, Nono? Your coat seems very princelike. Ah, the prince. He's very handsome, you know?" He felt the stranger tense, almost stop dancing.

To be honest, the material of the coat reminded him of his mother's old clothes that she had kept away, in a big wooden trunk in their small house. He would catch her pulling it out a couple times, and looking at them, then out the window in some sort of forlonging way.

When he had finally found the courage to walk in, all his mother had done was let him stroke the red coat, lined with suede and velvet, and put a hand on his shoulders, gazing outside the window.

This was why he shouldn't get drunk, everything reminded him of his mother. Even the stranger, the lines of the bones on his face slightly standing out even through the mask.

He came back to reality when Nono answered. "I work in the noble's pet shop."

Jaemin smiled loopily, even thought it couldn't be seen from the mask. "That seems interesting. What animals do they sell? Do they sell people?"

What was he even saying? But the words were out, and he stiffened, body still swaying to the music. His mask was a bit skewed now, and he could see an eye mole, and a rather pointed jawline. 

"Of course not. I'd reckon they have it somewhere around here, right?" His voice slightly squeaked at the end. He nodded at the question, sighing loudly.

"Yeah, the slums aren't a great place. Gangs, taverns, whatever you want to find, it's probably someplace here." He replied, an arm hanging off his shoulder now. Besides them, couples twirled each other around, celebrating the only holiday the King didn't strictly monitor or entirely ban.

"I've heard whispers of a rebel group floating around. You?"

Internally, he knew this was a warning sign, he needed to stiffen up, use a brain to mouth filter, but Jaemin was too drunk to care.

"Perhaps. I've heard about it too. They're rather big around here." He offered rather halfheartedly, suddenly feeling drained. A lie. Everyone here was too desperate to get in one of the nobles, or King's good graces to look around them, and the horribly damaged society they were in.

The stranger's eye, visible from the hole in his mask, narrowed. He seemed to prepare himself before saying the next words.

"You know where I can find them?"

___________________________________

Jeno had been trained in almost everything, but talking with his intentions hidden was definitely not one of them.

Only Taeyong was formally taught it as the crown prince, Doyoung having picked it up somewhere among hundreds of council meetings he never bothered to attend, even when he had graduated Warriors End and became a Elite. But he was trained to be a soldier, to be direct, with his words, and subsequently, with his kills.

So he found himself struggling to talk to the man he was currently dancing with. All three people he had danced with were either drunk off their asses to communicate properly, and more of groped than danced with him, or was an avid supporter of the "eradicate all magic users" campaign his father had created.

This was going nice so far. Mixed signals, he was also pretty drunk, not too much, but the right level to spill secrets. Jeno internally punished himself for taking advantage of someone like this, but he had to do it. If he stood a chance at protecting them, then he had to find them first, right?

He almost let out a groan when he outright asked where he could find the group. Of course he wasn't going to know. There was a reason they had survived for so long. Because almost no one knew about them.

Right when the man opposite him had opened his mouth and was about to respond, a gunshot rang in the square. The music stopped, and before he realized, everything turned into a mess, similar to the dinner and the rebel attack a few days ago.

In the middle of chaos, Jeno was taught to stay calm, so as he ran, his dance partner still clinging onto his arm, slightly alarmed now.

Hordes upon hordes of Elite had broken into the big square, unleashing swords and guns, poison tipped knives upon the civilians, the liquid sarin glinting in the dim evening light. He dimly remembered in health class that once it was in the person, they would foam at the mouth, collapse and die.

He whispered to the stranger beside him. "We've got to get away. They have sarin." He drew a knife, not caring about image anymore. It wasn't like anyone would notice among the chaos.

The man, sobered up, eyes widened and whispered. "Chenle, Jisung!" He bolted into the crowd.

 _Chenle?_ The name seemed familiar. This was the closest he had gotten, so he re-hid the knife in his sleeve, and ran after the man. 

The man's head and eyes flitted around the square, seemingly searching for some people. Soon, he locked gazes with two boys a couple meters away from them. He bolted towards them, Jeno tailing a distance away, pushing away people. 

He followed the three boys out of the crowded square, into a smaller one. 

Big mistake.

Seven soldiers streamed out from it, and he tensed, freezing for a second, and turned around. The stranger's mask had been knocked off, revealing a man who was strikingly familiar. But there was no time to pick through the people who he had met in his entire life.

He pulled out a knife(so he was also armed, weird) and shoved the two younger boys behind him, slowly advancing towards them.

They were horribly outnumbered.

He pulled out a gun, and nailed two straight between the eyeballs, before the other five realized what was going on. Another down with a bullet in the leg. Jeno ran closer, shoving the two kids in the awning of a store.

His former dance partner whipped around to stare at him, and his face contorted into surprise. But there was no time to waste. The remaining four Elites gained on him, and he reluctantly ripped off his mask.

"Halt! By the order of a First in a higher ranked--!"

But not before he felt a knife pierce his side, and everything went black.

__________________________________________

Once the man(his dance partner?) ripped off his mask, Jaemin's wine addled head filled with dread. He had faintly remember him mentioning the drug sarin. Ten had also said sarin was highly lethal, and would kill within minutes.

The soldiers put down their weapons, and bolted, not wanting to face treason, leaving Jaemin with Chenle and Jisung, who he had pushed behind an awning. He realized that if he hadn't, they would be dead.

Whoever he was, he owed him something. An "honor complex", Yangyang had said, he had. But he would call it more of being morally good. Skip the fact he was in an organization trying to take down an entire system.

Chenle gasped when he rolled the limp body over. 

"He's the fucking prince."

When Jaemin went to look, it was true. Prince Lee Jeno lay there, hair matted, face slightly red, but serene.

What was the prince doing here? Why had he danced with him, and why had he followed him? 

"Leave him. He might wake up and sell out our location. I bet you him and his team were sent here to find us." Jisung flatly stated, turning to go.

"No. We take him." Chenle stated, just as flat. Jaemin watched as his brother stared into Chenle's eyes. The boy stared back, equally as hard.

"And why would you want that? Are you working for your father?" He could tell his brother regretted his words the moment they came out. Chenle did have a rather rough history with his father, who was a disgraced lord of the King.

He decided to speak up. "Guys, we shouldn't argue here, anyone could--"

"I owe him. I owe Lee Jeno with my fucking life. That's why we need to take him. Even if he doesn't make it, we need to try. I won't be able to live with it if he died at my hands."

_______________________________________

_around 7-8 years ago_

Chenle ran as fast as his injured side could take him, father in chase with a knife. He was going to bleed out. But he would rather live, and fight, then give up.

Zhong Chenle never gave up.

His father was high again, having smoked his favorite pipe, filled with Ayahuasca, a plant imported from the very east, across the Eastern Sea.

It made him see things that weren't there, the things that were there warped into some reality he liked. Unfortunately, Chenle no longer belonged into that fantasy realm of things.

Don't let the blood flow. Hold the wound until it stops flowing. Make sure it doesn't get infected. If it gets infected, you're--

He was snapped back to reality as his wounded side accidentally hit the side of a table. Stars exploded in his eyes. But he staggered on.

_Don't give up. Don't give up. Keep going. Keep going._

He ran into the servants hallway, which was almost empty. 

_Fuck, she's not here. No one's here._

Plan B then. He could only hope and pray to any god. The Light and Shadow warrior, anyone, that he wouldn't die this time.

He turned down another hallway, and when the chute was in sight, he suddenly staggered, the angry footsteps in the back coming closer. He was having tunnel vision, fumbling with the latch, and sliding down it, closing with a clang behind him.

_I HAVE to survive. You HAVE to live, Zhong Chenle, or your life is not worth lived._

Yep, his wound had definitely ripped more.

When he landed on the sandy ground, he could hear his blood pouring out of the wound, dripping onto the ground next to him.

The evening breeze rushed through his hair, and all Chenle could think about was, 

_at least I could feel the wind before I died. The taste of freedom, even if it was a small whiff._ _  
_

/

When he came to, he was laying down. Nothing hurt. In fact, everything was numb. 

Was this heaven?

"Hey, you okay?" A door opened and closed, and Chenle finally felt he was laying on a bed, in an empty room.

His eyes swam with light for a moment, before a silhouette of a face popped up and became clearer.

"Prince Jeno?"

"That's me." The boy smiled, running a hand through his messy and sweaty hair. Even in this delirious state, he admired the beauty of the young prince standing before him.

"Is this heaven? Did you die too?" He whispered, voice slightly cracking at the end.

"No, you're not in heaven. You are very alive and well, matter of fact. I found you, half dead with a pool of blood around you. What happened?" 

"I--" Flashbacks of last night(?!) burst thorough his head like streaks of light. 

"Hey, it's okay. Calm down. Gather your thoughts." Jeno's soft voice grounded him. He nodded with the best of his abilities, turning his face to the prince, who had sat on the chair next to his bed.

"My name is Zhong Chenle, son of lord Zhong." He managed to say. The boy's face scrunched, trying to remember who his father was. The King had dozens of lords across the kingdom.

"Ah, so that's why I found you outside of the Zhong manor." He cocked his head to the side, and spoke again.

"So, what happened that made you like this?" He motioned to his stomach area, where he had been stabbed. Chenle tried to sit up, but collapsed back down when his side groaned in pain.

"No, don't move." Jeno put a hand on his shoulder. "You were cut really badly, and need rest." 

He asked the same question for the third time, and he realized he should answer him.

"So, mind telling me what happened? I think I should hear it, when I basically saved your life yesterday." He added with a chuckle. 

_Saved my life. I now owe a favor to the Prince. The damn prince, out of all people._

So he nodded, wet his lips, and started.

"My father, Lord Zhong, was a very good man and a good father. But he became different after your father gave him the drug. It's called Ayahuasca, and it's from all the way across the huge eastern sea. I remember very clearly the day he got them. He said he met the suppliers personally. They looked different, with darker skin and dressed differently, with colorful fabrics made of a foreign material."

"My dad has always liked his pipe, so when he got tired of one leaf, he would move on to the next. This was no different. After a few days, he changed. He would lash out at everybody and anyone if he was off his pipe, and when he was on, it was worse." His voice tapered off. But he swallowed the lump in his throat and continued.

"When he was on, he would see things none of us could see. He talked to invisible people, then hit the air when they didn't respond. Said the chair grew eyes. He used to baby and treasure me, his only son, but of course, that changed too." He paused for a second, and Jeno patted his back.

"He would try to kill me every single time he was on the drug. He always had dinner with me, and if I didn't escape before he started smoking," He left the sentence unfinished.

"And you got particularly unlucky this time." The boy nodded in understanding. "I'll tell my father to do something about him."

Chenle felt numb, and he wasn't sure if it was from his confession, or Jeno saying he'll take care of his father. He should care. No matter what, he was still his goddamn father, who raised him from--

"Hey, don't think about it too much. We'll try to get him off the leaf first. The King doesn't just kill his lords."

He noticed how the prince referred to his father as "the king", and wondered what type of relationship he had with him. Definitely not something fatherly, he would assume.

"Where am I?" He asked. "Your highness." He belatedly tagged on, internally cursing himself out for the mistake. Fuck, he hadn't addressed the prince by his title for the whole conversation.

"At Warrior's End, where no one calls me your highness. Always hated how formal and stuffy that sounded. Jeno is just fine." He smiled at Chenle.

Jeno continued. "Once you recover, and I'll pull some strings, would you like to train here? So you can fight back next time, and not run away?"

He suppressed a gasp, regretting it as he stretched his side. 

"A-are you sure?" He stammered. Warrior's End? Where Elites were produced? His father had always been against sending him to the school, as he said "there's no point training so much just to parade around the palace."

He watched as he nodded earnestly. "Of course. I want to help you. My father made yours like that, so his son should repay."

Wow, the prince was more disciplined, and nice than he had previously thought, and assumed. The servants would always rant on how good looking he was, and he assumed his personality was the stark opposite of his looks.

"Okay."

Something remained unspoken between them. 

_I, Zhong Chenle, will owe Prince Jeno a blood debt._

When he got introduced to the team, a few days after his wound finally closed up, all the other boys sneered at his lanky frame and big scared eyes. But they shut up quickly after Jeno levelled them with a admittably scary gaze.

When the older boy had Prince business he had to take care of, and the boys beat him up bloody, probably even more bloodier than that night, Jeno rushed to him, took care of him by himself because if he was checked into the infirmary, the records would eventually reach his father and alert of his presence. The boys were either demoted or kicked out.

If he didn't owe a big enough debt the first time, he did now. 

And when his father, with the King in tow this time, came knocking, Jeno helped Chenle flee in the dead of night. That day, he realized that he would always keep running away. Only Jeno could fight back, because he was a Prince.

_It’s so funny, how everyone thinks they have so much power, with people working under them, while they work themselves to get paid the very same. In the end, the King did control everything, including Jeno. No one was truly free._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops this update turned out more angsty then I realized  
> yeah there’s some plot holes in this I couldn’t be bothered to fix, hyuck knows abt jenos abilities, and I just realized I wrote jaemin way more drunk then he’s acts later on oops ~~  
> also the last sentence is taken from Sabrina carpenters thumbs if you haven’t noticed teehee  
> anyways I hope you like this


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